Rince Draiochtach
by Brigitte Treble
Summary: Life hasn't been kind to Hermione. Voldemort, Death Eaters, death in general. And yet, It was during this turmoil, that she discovered the underlying beat of it all. A jump, a turn, a stamp. And that pulsing music. Come dance with her.
1. The Piper thro' the Meadow Straying

**Rince ****Draíochtach**

**Disclaimer: **I just own the story. I don't own the characters, JKR does. As with anything you recognize from JKR's world. Technically, I don't own a lot of the terminology in this-my dance teacher does… So basically, I just own the story.

**Summary: **Life has been hard on Hermione. She's gone up against Voldemort and death eaters 3 times now? Not to mention that breakdown her best friend had the other year; that must have been a bit tough. It was during this turmoil, that she discovered the underlying beat of it all. A jump, a turn, a stamp. And that pulsing music.

**A/N: **Hey, welcome to the story! It is a story about dance primarily, but so much more. It takes place throughout the 6th book and into the summer of the 7th, so if you haven't read the Half-Blood Prince turn back now! And go read it. The story's based a lot on my own experiences and research, but very true to the books… Well, mostly anyways. ;) This first chapter is a bit of an introduction for the real story which begins the next chapter. And yes, the following chapters will be longer. You may be able to guess what kind of dance already by the title. Kudos if you can. Regardless, read on! Review! Flames will be used for breaking in my new hard shoes. Not that you would anyways, right? 

**The Piper thro' the Meadow Straying**

I am lost, and I rejoice in the openness I cannot decide where to go, so for now, I will dance where I am and be. There is no goal, no destination, just wilderness and life and being. I sing and dance and live in the wilderness, and I am home.  
- Tziporah

Have you ever wondered which one came first? Music and dance, that is. Did people first start dancing to music or did people start playing music for dancing. What is dancing, anyways? Who was the first one who decided that he (she?) wasn't just moving, she (he?) was dancing? A girl in a field? A guy around a fire? I wonder what that person was thinking.

They say it's ancient, dancing. That's what got me wondering about who started it. The books have been no help. They all say the same. "The very origins of dance are unknown, but it's thought that it began somewhere in Africa in the very beginnings of man." Ancient, indeed. Can you imagine being the first person to dance? What a legacy! And to be unknown to posterity… Brings life into perspective, doesn't it?

I could have been that person. I heard the music, I felt the beat. Something stirred deep in me. I had never felt that way before. Even when I read the best books and encountered a daunting Arithmancy problem, I have never felt such a need to do something. I've heard it been called as instinct, but I'm not sure. That seems too animalistic. Maybe animalistic is the way it should be. Natural, connected to the spirits of the world. I don't know, I just know that it came.

I didn't dance for beauty, for love, for hate, for people. I didn't dance for anything. I just danced. But it became so much more. Once I knew what dancing was, I could dance for beauty, for love, for hate, for people. I could dance for the world and let out all my anxieties loose on that wooden floor. I danced for all of them. I could feel all of their magic in a bar, in a stamp. I needed to dance for them. I needed to dance.

It was because I heard the beat that I needed to dance. So I did, I danced. I fought all the little voices that said that I didn't have enough time or that I didn't need to. And I danced. I might never be a champion, but I will always be a dancer.

Come dance with me.


	2. The Ace and Deuce of Pipering

**Rince ****Draíochtach**

**Disclaimer: **I just own the story. I don't own the characters, JKR does. As with anything you recognize from JKR's world. Technically, I don't own a lot of the terminology in this-my dance teacher does… So basically, I just own the story.

**Summary: **Life has been hard on Hermione. She's gone up against Voldemort and death eaters 3 times now? Not to mention that breakdown her best friend had the other year; that must have been a bit tough. It was during this turmoil, that she discovered the underlying beat of it all. A jump, a turn, a stamp. And that pulsing dance with her.

**A/N:** I hope you liked the first chapter, I just uploaded it about 3 minutes ago from when I'm typing this. I have the whole story planned out and almost finished. I just need to get on converting them from ye olde pieces of paper to my computer. I find it easier to write on paper versus on a computer. Thanks to The Lady of the Four Clovers, my only reviewer! Reviews are fun, honest. It's kind of like doing 80 on a 60 MPH highway. Don't believe me? Go try it. Please? Danke!

**The Ace and Deuce of Pipering**

I had my first big battle with Death Eaters and things of the like in the spring of my 5th year at Hogwarts. Struck by a curse, I was seriously injured and even after I was released by the Health General Madam Pomphry, I was still weak. More mentally than physically, but weak nonetheless. A year dealing with an angsty friend topped off with a battle with Death Eaters will do that to you.

My parents were deeply concerned about what happened. I had sent them an owl explaining it, but I imagine that did more harm than good. The fact that they had very basic knowledge of the wizarding world didn't help either. Upon returning home to our little house in the country, my parents doted on me as if I was a sick heir to the British throne. "Calmness" was the theme of their therapy. My parents fancy themselves experts on keeping people calm, having to deal with many nervous patients in their day.

We came home on a Monday that year.

"Oh, darling, we're so glad to have you home!" my mother exclaimed upon throwing open the doors to the house. The house smelled suspiciously clean and flowery. There was a faint smell of chicken roasting coming from the kitchen. My mother likes the house sterile, like her office. She finds it more welcoming. My father, on the other hand, fancies things a bit messy, like his office. It was evident who had worn the pants the last few days.

"Yes, dear, it's such a relief to have you safe at home, what with everything…" my father commented, drifting off at the end. I smiled and nodded vaguely, waving off the subject.

"Mum, that smells lovely! Is dinner soon?"

My mother beamed at me and, throwing a pointed 'I told you so' look at my father, nodded towards the kitchen. "Thank you, darling! Yes, it will be ready in about 20 minutes. Why don't you put your trunk in your room? We fixed it up a bit for you. I wanted you to be comfortable."

"Fixed it up?" I muttered, picking up my trunk, "Alright, I'll be down in a bit!"

'Fixed it up' was a bit of an understatement when applied to the room I walked into. They, or most likely she, had gone all out in the name of relaxation and calmness. Candles, flowers, and comforters and pillows picked out by their colorology effects. She had even laid out a few 'highly relaxing' CDs. It looked like a Spa. A Spa in a library, but a Spa regardless.

That night, after a long and painful conversation involving me detailing my plans to vacation at the Burrow, I needed some relaxation. My mum had clearly explained, in heart wrenching detail, that she had spent hours of her valuable time on my room. I decided that it would only be polite to take advantage of it at that moment. I investigated the CDs to see if any were suitable reading music. All the CDs had signs of a waiting room and my parent's secretary. I've never had particularly cool tastes in anything, music included. However, I know what horrendous elevator music is when I hear it. These definitely qualified. Highly qualifying were the CDs who's titles I couldn't understand or had 'soothing' ocean cover shots.

'Musings of a Dolphin" was the title of the first CD I tried. Unfortunately, one of the most intelligent animals in the world gave me no help in improving my own intelligence. 5 CDs later, I was almost out of CDs and very almost out of patience. The CD I picked up was tinted green and had that characteristic water scene on the front.

"River dance" was the title and I remember thinking that it was a fitting title, looking at the picture on the front. Settling down in a soft blue pillow which had a little too much fluff for its own good, I opened **Wizardry of the Mugglekind **and tried to get lost in it. I would have had an easier time reading if Crookshanks was devouring my face. Fate did not have reading in its plan for me that night.

This CD was one of a rare breed. It drew my attention into its notes like an accio charm. As I mentioned previously, my music tastes have never been particularly cool. In fact, I didn't really have one. One bar of that CD conjured me a taste in music. I couldn't help turning it up, feeling the bass rise up, piercing the layers of comforters.

I couldn't stop listening. I had lost the ability to move outside its spell. A nod, a tap. I was entranced, there's no other word for it. The baseline hooked, reeled me in and wouldn't let me in. It was like nothing I had ever heard before in a song. A quick tapping, like someone with long nails drumming their fingers on a window pane.

Ignorance has led me to restricted sections of libraries and top secret hallways. It has led me to a 3 headed dog and the hospital wing more times that I would like to remember. This music, this baseline. It was going to lead me to more dangerous places. I could feel it because I never had felt anything like that before.

It was time to do research.


	3. The Downfall of Paris

**Rince ****Draíochtach**

**Disclaimer: **I just own the story. I don't own the characters, JKR does. As with anything you recognize from JKR's world. Technically, I don't own a lot of the terminology in this-my dance teacher does… So basically, I just own the story.

**Summary: **Life has been hard on Hermione. She's gone up against Voldemort and death eaters 3 times now? Not to mention that breakdown her best friend had the other year; that must have been a bit tough. It was during this turmoil, that she discovered the underlying beat of it all. A jump, a turn, a stamp. And that pulsing music. Come dance with her.

**A/N:** Oh man, 2 reviews. I'm moving up in the world! Heh, thanks to Avelynn Tame, my reviewer for the last chapter. Thanks for the encouragement, I really needed that! I meant to put this in the last chapter. I'm looking for a beta reader so if you're interested, drop me an email. And so, here it is! My biggest chapter yet, making this my longest story yet! Hermione finds out what this crazy CD is about. Read, review, tell your friends, have fun, go swimming. Your choice, really.

**The Downfall of Paris**

It was undeniable the next morning. I was absolutely hooked. I need to know everything about that haunting music and analyze it down to the very last note. My search started at breakfast.

"Morning, Dad," I said cheerily as I walked into the kitchen. Pots were piled in the sink and my father was munching on a piece of toast topped with badly burnt eggs. "Um… Where's mum?"

"Drowning her sorrows in nail polish, it would seem," he responded, not looking up from his paper. Lovely.

"I listened to some of those CDs last night," I tested, helping myself to toast.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, some of them were really calming. Where did mum find them anyways?"

"No idea, I believe our patients gave some suggestions. Why don't you ask her? She's at the usual place," my father phrased this more as a challenge than a suggestion. I hadn't entered the nail salon since I was about 9.

Half an hour later, I was pushing open the door to the nail salon. This was the extent of my hook to this music. I got a manicure in order to talk to my mother. After another hour, I had all the knowledge I could get from my mother. Granted, it took massive apologizing and ignoring the appalled manicurist who was doing my beat up nails, but I got my information.

My dad had been right; she found the CD from one of her patients. Apparently, it was a show that had come out within the last year. My mother explained it as a dancing show with some music and singing. Vaudeville type musicals came to mind. Still… This music was so intense, so captivating that I had to push on with this hunt.

This music had even allowed me to forget about the war and the danger. No book I tried last year had done that, no matter how hard I looked for a captivating one. Listening, I could drift off into my own world, something I had scorned upon before. Many were the times that I had tutted at Ron for not paying attention in one subject or another. I finally understood why he would do it, knowing the threats to his grades. I felt like I had just fallen headfirst into the new world of a colorful book, far away from my own.

The temple of my life up to this point was only a little help. It confirmed my mother's vague description of the CD. Riverdance was a show with music, dancing and singing. I was heartened to hear that it was not actually a Vaudeville show. The dancing was "show choreographed Irish dancing." I had seen Irish dancing at some St. Patrick's Day show, but never really taken to it. I admired the control and skill of the dancers, but it seemed rather bland, honestly. I think it might have been the music. Some accordion and fiddle music was at it was and nothing pulsing. But this music was heart stopping.

"Excuse me? I asked tentatively to an unfamiliar librarian behind the desk, her nose in a book.

"Yes? How may I help you?" she replied, a tone of surprise in her voice. I gave her my best teacher smile.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help me find some information on this CD my mum bought for me. I've found some books, but nothing specific, "I posed my request in the politest way I could think of. First impressions are very important when dealing with librarians. Thankfully, she fave me an understanding smile.

"Of course, what CD?"

"It's called Riverdance. I've found that it's an Irish dance show, but that's about it."

The librarian laughed lightly and nodded. "I guess you missed the recent EuroVision?" she asked and I smiled in agreement. I had missed most TV shows recently… "I'm not sure how you would have missed it, even if you didn't catch the show. It was a big deal after show…"

"I've… been… in the states for an exchange recently. My mum gave me the CD as sort of a welcome home gift," I replied attempting to lie through my teeth. Hopefully, that would keep any questions away.

"Oh yes, how was that?"

"Lovely. We, eh, toured a lot and I got to get a real look into American schools and culture. Horizon opening, if you will." Oh I had done it now. My US geography was foggy at best. I could only remember vaguely where Salem was in relation to New York. A lack of questions would be lovely.

"That's wonderful! Do you happen-" she got cut off as the telephone rang, "Pardon a sec…" As she answered the phone, I took a moment to sort my story out. America… Well, I knew Salem's east and so is New York. I had stayed a bit outside New York? Bother, who was their President again? Even British muggles knew that… Did Clinton get re-elected? Maybe she wouldn't bring it up…

"Ah, sorry, that was my boss; I need to sort out some stack of books. Riverdance, right? Got to periodicals, I believe there are articles on it there. We might have some video on Irish dance, too," she remarked, hanging up the phone.

"Thank you very much. I'll do that," I replied, turning quickly to leave. Thank God that was over, lying is always so awkward. Periodicals were in the back and with a little effort I found some articles on Riverdance.

"Halftime show for EuroVision… Show planned… CDs to be released… Brilliance… A remarkable blend of modern and tradition…" Well it was clear that the show had a bit on the St. Patrick's Day show I had seen. More modern apparently, edgier. The costumes were different too, simpler than the ones I had seen. Maybe the librarian was right on the video too…

Half an hour later, I found no Riverdance tape. I did find a few tapes from local shows, though. Some were quite good, others not so much. All had the more intricate costumes. And most of them named local "schools" that were in the videos. I guessed that was the Irish equivalent of a studio. Some weren't too far away, too!

Excitement came over me in a wave. Perhaps I could take classes this summer! Imagine Ron and Harry's surprise when I came back dancing! Ron and Harry… This summer… The wave went as soon as it came, leaving me mangled from being slammed into the shore of reality. Of course I couldn't take classes that summer-I was going to the Burrow, it would be too dangerous. It would be fun though. It would be fun though. I could teach Ron and Harry. Maybe the whole Burrow would be dancing.

For not the first time, I really wanted You…Voldemort that is, dead and gone with. Dance is a simple thing and I couldn't even do that. At that moment alone, I pictured a dozen ways to kill that snake. My favorite was his being stampeded by a herd of Irish Dancers.

Reluctantly, I put the tapes away and stood up. I had gotten the school names and numbers anyways, just for the sake of having them if nothing else. I waved jovially to the librarian and walked home pondering life in general. I ate my dinner quickly and went right up to my room. Parental pestering was not in my agenda.

I turned off the light annoyed and put on the CD. I did have those numbers still. Maybe tomorrow I'd call for kicks. Couldn't do any harm, right?


	4. Miss Brown's Fancy

**Rince ****Draíochtach**

**Disclaimer: **I just own the story. I don't own the characters, JKR does. As with anything you recognize from JKR's world. Technically, I don't own a lot of the terminology in this-my dance teacher does… So basically, I just own the story.

**Summary: **Life has been hard on Hermione. She's gone up against Voldemort and death eaters 3 times now? Not to mention that breakdown her best friend had the other year; that must have been a bit tough. It was during this turmoil, that she discovered the underlying beat of it all. A jump, a turn, a stamp. And that pulsing music. Come dance with her.

**Miss Brown's Fancy**

"Hello, Maureen Houlihan for the Houlihan School of Irish Dance!" a voice highly flavored by a rich accent rang into my ear. My breath caught in my throat trying to remember what I had planned to say.

"Hello?"

"Oh, um, sorry, Hello," I stuttered, mentally kicking myself for sounding so inarticulate.

"How can I help you?"

"Yes… My name is Hermione Granger. I recently was given a CD of Riverdance and did some research and your school name came up. I'm really interested in Irish dance, but I won't be able to take lessons, unfortunately. But I was wondering if you could give some information about Irish dancing…?" I asked tentatively.

"Naturally! May I ask why it is that you wouldn't be able to take classes?"

"I go to a boarding school in Scotland for most of the year and they tend to have a… rather tight security policy."

"Ah, I see. Well it's good you're taking an interest in the dance anyways! Well, Irish dance, as the name would suggest, originated in Ireland and there have been records of it as far back as the Roman times. It has been used as a means of social bonding, religious ceremony and as a political took in its history. It is, of course, characterized by the strict lack of arm movements that has made it so unique in the world of dance. However, it also involves pointed toes, crossed legs, turned out feet and immaculate posture.

I have to say that it's very hard to describe it over the phone. I wonder… Would you be interested in coming down to our studio today? I could give you some more, better, information if you come down…"

I'd have loved to come to their studio! I would have loved nothing more at that moment. There were a few things that could have topped my going down to that studio and they were things I had to fight for with my life to get. Bring on the parentals!

"I would love to come down! Assuming I can, when about should I come down?"

"Well our largest class is from 5-7, so feel free to stop by anytime then!"

"Great, hold on a minute," I said excitedly, putting the phone down and running into the living room where my parents were sitting watching the telly. "Hey Mum, Dad, are we doing anything from 5-7 that I need to be here for?"

"No, dear, I don't believe so. Why?" my mum responded.

"You know that CD, Riverdance, that you gave me?"

"Mmm…yes. You researched that yesterday, didn't you?"

"Yeah, and I found a dance school in town that will let me come in for a class today. For research, you know."

My mother turned to look at me curiously and nodded slowly after a moment. "Alright, you're still going to the Burrow tomorrow though, right?"

A huge grin appeared on my face. "Thank you! And yes… I am… One minute, the teacher is still on the phone." I just about ran back to the phone. "Miss Houlihan?"

"Yes, I'm here. Can you come down?"

"I can come! Should I bring anything in particular?"

"I'm guessing you'd want to dance, correct?" she asked sounding more excited than I would have expected.

"Um, yeah, if that would be alright…"

"It would be lovely. We're a small school, so glad to help out. Just wear some shorts and a T-shirt. Do you have old ballet shoes or something like that?"

"Er, no. I have never been a real artsy person…"

"That's fine, just bring some sneakers. I think we have some extras in the studio. Oh, speaking of that, I never told you where the studio was, did I? You know St. Mary's in town? It's in the basement, we rent it out for classes."

"Yeah, of course. So 5?"

"Yep, 5! Hope to see you there, Hermione!"

Great, you will! Thanks again," I exclaimed, a grin carved into my face. My mother was right there when I hung up the phone.

"So you're going to that dance studio, then?" she inquired as she filled the kettle with water. I smiled vaguely.

"Yes, thanks to your inspiration. I never would have learned of any of this without your care!" I kissed up to the best of my ability. I knew I was ripping her heart out by going to the Burrow, but inactivity was not in my repertoire. My mum smiled lightly as she turned the kettle on.

"You know we'll really miss you here," she murmured as she took out a mug. Her face was kept conspicuously away from me.

"I know, mum. I know," I sighed quietly, "It's hard for me too. You know I'd rather be here."

My mother gave me a teary grin and crossed the room. In seconds she was hugging me like a baby hugging a teddy bear.

"I just don't want you hurt," she muttered still holding on to me.

"I won't, don't worry. You know I'll always come back, always."

Dinner was a full roast chicken that night.

It was an old brown wooden door that led to the Houlihan School of Irish Dance's "studio". I had examined every knot in that old door before I opened it.

An avalanche of heat, speckled with voices and bound by an obscene amount of moisture buried me as I took a step into their studio. I fought my way out, trying to get accustomed to the bizarre atmosphere.

"Hermione?" a St. Bernard with a strong Irish accent was pulling me out.

"Yes, Miss Houlihan?" I replied, still a bit overwhelmed. Girls were lacing up shoes and beginning to stretch in the background. The lady in front of me looked to be in her late 30s and outfitted in an old T-shirt, black leggings and a pair of what I would later know were referred to as soft shoes. She gave me a grin.

"Yep, I'm so glad you decided to come down. Real class starts in about 5 minutes; they're just stretching out right now. I'll give you a bit of an introduction now if you'd like," she explained, moving to turn up a stereo.

"That would be grand, thanks," I responded, now able to examine the studio clearly. A waxed, uneven wooden floor had been covered by large wooden planks taped awkwardly down by duct tape. Mix-matched dance bags, shoes, water bottles and pieces of clothing were thrown haphazardly along a wall. Girls, and a few boys I noted, were stretching out to a rock song.

"Christina, come up and lead stretches for a bit while I do this," Maureen demanded to a brown haired girl and gestured for me to follow her into a small side room. She fished through a box of shoes throwing shoes that looked like large tap shoes out of the way. "What size did you say, again?"

"About a 30…"

She pulled a pair of soft shoes out and held them up to the light. "Here, try these on. They might be a bit small at first, but they'll do for today. Oh, let me lace them for you," she said distractedly, seeing me fumble with the shoes, "Right. You can stretch out with the class for a start. I'll introduce you."

Maureen pulled me out of the room and indicated to a free area near the edge of the planks. Fooling around with my legs for a bit, I tried to get them into the same position the rest of the class was in. It was then that I discovered I could never be a gymnast.

I was already in pain when Maureen turned off the blaring music. "In case you haven't noticed, we have a new student with us, Hermione. I'll trust you'll welcome her like the good children I know you are," Maureen almost ordered giving the class a stern look that received some smirks in return, "Right then, reel drills. Now, that is! Up, you lazy lumps-rows of 4! Hermione, come here a minute." She turned on an accordion packed song and turned to me. "You can stay with me during this and get a basic idea of things. We'll start dancing after this."

In all my years of teaching and learning, I have never found a method as affective. It took me about 10 minutes of watching these drills to figure out what to do and what not to do. A screaming Irish woman is unique in that matter. Little did I know that it would be much harder to put the theory to practice.

"Water then up in two minutes! Christina, come here," Maureen commanded, "This is Hermione. I want you to teach her some basic jigs and maybe some reels if she picks it up quickly. Make sure to know that she knows how to do 1-2-3s, 7s, and back-2-3s. She'll be doing ceili with us today." I felt like I was hearing Sanskrit. I assumed the other girl knew what Maureen was talking about, because I certainly didn't.

The girl named Christina smiled at me as Maureen walked away. "Hey, come with me for a second. I just need to grab some water before I can start dancing again…" she gasped between breaths. She grabbed a bottle and muttered a few words to the girls sitting down by her. They all started laughing and giving her a knowing nod before she rushed back to me, water in hand.

"Crazy kids," she explained and took a swig of water, "She was working us hard today. You chose a good day."

Not sure if she was kidding I replied with a simple, "Oh, alright." Christina put the water down and chuckled.

"Guess I should get to work, then. What you saw us doing before were just basic drills. They're moves that come up a lot in dances, but you won't be doing a lot of them. So, she said jigs, right?" She paused trying to think, "Yeah, jigs. Alright, let's try this one. It's pretty simple."

Famous last words. Not since Quidditch class have I been so annoyed with myself. After about 15 minutes, I got the dance down and could do it, but it looked nothing like Christina's. Her jig had elegance and energy. Mine had stiff legs and pigeon toes. But progress was being made. After I got the first one, the next ones were a lot easier. Christina seemed pretty surprised with the speed I could pick the dances up and suggested we moved onto reels.

Reels are faster, livelier. I picked these up very quickly, but in all fairness they were a lot easier than the jigs. And they involved the mysterious dance steps Maureen had talked about earlier. The hardest was the back-2-3 move. I felt like I had lost control of my legs doing it. And my legs could never bend at just the same angle that Christina's did. When she did the move, she jumped a foot in the air as she brought her foot back. I was having problems bringing my leg back.

Eventually, after getting the steps down, Christina came down on my style.

"Cross your feet." "Turn those feet out!" "Hit your bum when you bring your foot back… No, the other side!" "Up on your toes." "Watch those arms, don't fly away on me!"

I found that I could easily understand what the steps were, but getting them to look right was something much more difficult. Biting my lip, I went to work trying to figure out what it felt like when I did it right. Christina even placed my feet in the right positions at times to show me. Still… I couldn't get it exactly right.

I imagined I had sweated a gallon when Maureen finally came over. "How're you doing over here?" she asked with a sly grin on her face, "Tired yet, Hermione?"

Christina laughed and I almost wanted to smack her one. Maureen handed me a bottle of water. "Ah, we're only teasing you; take a break for a bit. Christina can introduce you to some of the girls and tell you a little about classes while we do slip jig," Maureen stated with a more sympathetic smile. Christina led me over to where a few girls and the only boys were sitting.

"Hey, guys, this is Hermione. She'll be doing ceili with us in a bit so I'm supposed to give her a heads up as to what she's in for, eh!" Christina laughed and took another swig of her water bottle. "Hermione, this is Katie, Shannon, Erin, Ryan and Matt. We're all reels, so we don't have to dance right now."

"Not that we ever do…" Katie interrupted with a wink. Shannon hit her on the head with a shoe.

"Don't say that! You'll scare her away!" Shannon replied indignantly. "We love to dance, but we're just a bit lazy at points, you could say." Sarah snickered behind Shannon.

"Yeah, you could say that. We can dance alright when we're dancing. It's the getting to the point that's the issue…" Sarah commented, keeping her eyes on the girls dancing. I lifted my eyes from the girls talking to the girls dancing, to examine the actual dancing for the first time.

The dancers were relatively similar to the ones I had seen in the videos, probably the same girls for that matter. However, watching a dancer at practice was far different than watching a performance. Dancers at practice had more spirit, more emotion. They were pushed harder and stretched to their limits. Those smiles that had been plastered onto the dancer's faces in performances were replaced with grimaces and faces of pure determination. There were faces gasping for air, struggling to get through the last few bars of the dance. At performances, the dancers were primped and polished, curly hair, make up and elaborate dresses. At dance class, the girls were in old shorts and sweatshirts with sweat running into dripping hair and any remnants of make up slinking down their face.

I was invigorated by breathing the same air and being in the same building as girls who could leap 4 feet into the air like they were walking. The lack of body movement made it look exceptionally easy when they did it. Just running, a little twirl, turn and LEAP INTO THE AIR. All the time without their upper body moving an inch. Well, the best of them anyways. There were a few whose posture was sloppy at best and whose toes turned in like mine. And all variations in between. But when the best dancers took the floor, they demanded power and attention. Watching them for 5 minutes, I decided that the one thing I really wanted to learn was how they manage to hang in the air like that.

And I was astounded that even the best dancers, Maureen would be able to scream something at.

"Hey Hermione, we're doing Ceili now. Alex decided not to show so you'll be in our group today," Christina said, indicating to herself, Shannon and Sarah. Excited, I stood up quickly. If I was honest, I had no idea what a ceili was, but it seemed like a big deal from what they were saying. For some reason, it hadn't come up in my research.

"Great! Forgive me for knowing nothing, but what exactly is a ceili?" I asked as we walked over where the rest of the class was organizing into groups of 4. Christina laughed and hit Shannon.

"I think this is your subject, Shan," Christina remarked with a smirk, "Shannon is our Ceili master extraordinaire." Shannon gave her a look, but didn't do anything to dispute the fact.

"A ceili is a group dance. The most ancient of Irish dances since it evolved out of social bonding and that's always what comes first! It actually does involve hands to make figures, which is why another name for a ceili is a figure. Um… We're doing a 4 hand which actually involves 8 hands, but regardless, it's 4 people and a shorter dance than if you were dancing with 8 people. We'll show you what to do. Just…don't mess up," Shannon attempted to explain a ceili and gave me a very scary look at the end which left me wondering if she was kidding about the end or not. Erin doubled over in laughter at my reaction.

"Aw, she won't really hurt you if you mess up. She's just a bit obsessed." Erin commented trying to overcome giggles that had taken over.

A bit obsessed was a good way of describing Shannon's attitude on ceili. While the others were rather patient with me, Shannon insisted that I be her partner so the she could help me get it right. Helping me get it right involved her pulling me violently if I ever went the wrong way. However, I eventually roughly figured out what it was I was supposed to do. The style was completely off and my timing was still wrong, but I knew what I had to do. That was the important thing.

After 5 times of doing it, I was dead tired, but wanted to do it again. As I figured out what it was I needed to do, I began to realize that the connection with the other girls was producing something amazing. I began to see the shapes and figures in the dancing and I could feel one energy pulsing in the group. My realization of that was almost as great as the very first time I did magic. A shocking, gasping sensation that sent chills down my spine. I just did that?

But the ultimate in thrills came when I watched the class's 8 hand. I couldn't imagine a more perfect thing. They were lined up and spinning and moving and catching hands in exact unison. I had seen that kind of thing in things like synchronized swimming or ice skating, but I had never experienced the kind of awe I had for these dancers. They were perfectly to time. It was one of the few times that I caught all of them smiling as they danced. It seemed like the smile spread across the group until they were all almost laughing and yet, they kept dancing. And it was still perfect.

They could even talk and keep in line! Their multitasking astounded me. I was even more shocked by the fact that they were never caught.

At the very end of class, Maureen invited me to do a reel and jig for the class. I was as nervous as I had been for taking my OWLs. Or, close to that nervous, anyways. Once she turned the music on, all my fears disappeared. All their faces were encouraging and smiling. I knew nothing at that moment but my steps and I danced them. All my fears from the Wizarding world disappeared in that moment, I was so focused. Knee-out-hop back-2-3-4… I felt like I was on top of the World.

Thanking the school very much and promising to call whenever I was in town, I took off my shoes and gave them back to Maureen.

"Ah, keep them! They're old anyways and they'll fit you grandly. You'd be a great dancer, you know. Something inside you sparkled doing that last reel," Maureen commented, taking off her own shoes. I smiled, filled with melancholy.

"Thanks, I wish I could. I'll call whenever I'm in town. I really appreciate you helping me out. I thought it was so interesting that I had to have some experience in it," I replied, wrapping the laces around the shoes, "Well, I have to go. My mum would be worried if I came home late! Thanks again!"

"No problem, Hermione, anytime."

Christina and Shannon were walking out the same time I was. "So will we be seeing you around again?" Christina asked. I shrugged.

"Hopefully!"

"Well we'd love to have you. You'd be awesome in our group," Shannon added. I laughed, tossing the empty water bottle into the trash.

"Thanks, I'll see you soon."

As I turned to walk the short distance to my house, I realized that I would be seeing them soon. Or as soon as I could, anyways. I was totally and inescapably hooked.

The Irish had me.

A/N: I hope you liked that. Hermione finally gets into the dance. My longest chapter so far by a while! I'm hoping to keep them around this length for a bit. Hopefully that will elongate the story and get the detail and emotion I want into it. I decided to put the author's notes at the end for now, keeps it a bit cleaner. That's really it and I am still looking for a beta, so feel free to email me. Reviews would be lovely too, even if you hate it. Say so, but say why and tell me what you think would make it better. This is by no means a set in stone story, if you feel something would be better another way, feel free to say so! And with that, I'm out! Until next time!


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